


Dream Walking

by montecarlogirl87



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2778332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlogirl87/pseuds/montecarlogirl87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>random drabble</p><p>He’d been dreaming of her for weeks now. Not every night, but often enough to alarm him. At first he had ignored it, told himself it was just a normal dream. But Dean Winchester’s normal dreams always consisted of one of three things…family, hunting or girls. This was a whole other ball game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Walking

**Author's Note:**

> I was at work and got caught in a storm before I could finish and go home and I honestly don't know where the hell this came from...but I typed it up anyways *shrugs*

He’d been dreaming of her for weeks now. Not every night, but often enough to alarm him.  
  
At first he had ignored it, told himself it was just a normal dream.  
  
But Dean Winchester’s normal dreams always consisted of one of three things…family, hunting or girls.   
  
This was a whole other ball game.

When it happened the first time he shrugged it off. Weird ass dream, sure…important, nah, not really.  
  
When it happened again he was curious. Sure, the girl in his dreams was hot, but then again this is Dean were talking about, of course a girl fabricated by his subconscious was hot. But what made him wonder was he had no interaction with the hot girl. He saw her, running though the rain in the middle of a forest franticly searching for something. And her frightened eyes left a haunting impression on him. She was scared, but not for herself, despite the storm that raged around her, she was scared for whoever or whatever she was searching for.  
  
That day, after the second dream, he had been thrown all out of whack. The image of her eyes, raindrops falling like tears off her curved lashes, seemed to be burned into his retinas, an afterimage he couldn’t get rid of no matter what he did during the day.  
  
So when it happened a third time, he really started getting concerned.  
  
He contemplated telling Sam, but didn’t want to get into a whole drawn out conversation about the  _possibility_  that it could be some kind of vision.   
  
He had had enough of visions after Andy’s little mental telegraph, thanks.  
  
He contemplated researching something, trying to prove to himself that it wasn’t real, but what the hell could he search, typing in ‘girl searching for something in the rain’ into the Google search bar certainly wasn’t going to yield any helpful information.  
  
So he was left on pins and needles, half hoping not to have the dream again, so he could forget about it and move on, and half hoping to have it again so he could try to discern something he could use to find out more.  
  
When the hunt they were on took a turn towards being frighteningly similar to his dreamscapes Dean panicked, waiting until Sam was in the shower before running off to finish the job fast.  
  
He just needed to get the hell out of this town.

* * *

 

She shot awake in her bed, sweat beading at her hairline.  
  
Her movements were quick and efficient as she yanked off her pair of pajama pants and pulled a pair of jeans from her dresser drawer. She got down on her hands and knees and pulled a pair of worn boots from under her bed, lacing them up and tying a double knot before running down the hall, grabbing a set of keys from a hook by the light switch before slamming the door.

Her truck slid to a stop at the edge of the trees, mud slinging from the off-road tires and onto the black body.  
  
Her boots splashed into a muddy brown puddle as she jumped from the truck, the eerie rumble of thunder rolling through the sky.  
  
The rain drops fell fat and cold, plastering her hair to her head and her shirt to her skin.  
  
She wasn’t sure which direction to head in she just had the steady pull in her stomach to ‘ _go_.’  
  
She ran for all she was worth, bobbing and weaving through the trees, the rain slowly gaining momentum and saturating the ground into a soggy mess.  
  
She wasn’t sure who the man was that she was looking for, wasn’t even sure why she was looking for him, but she knew better than to question what she had seen.  
  
The Mother had given her the gift and she had been taught to trust in it.  
  
Her father had taught her from an early age that the gift was not to be taken lightly and that it was a blessing bestowed upon her by The Goddess. Her own mother, a mere biological donation in her eyes, being a God fearing woman, left her sinful daughter and father when she was still a child.  
  
The only mother she had was the one that revealed herself in the dirt between her toes, the wind that lashed the trees, the fire that burned in her hearth and the water that fell from the sky, cleansing her soul.  
  
She sought solace in that small fact. That the rain that was currently running down her face and cheeks, blurring her vision and stinging her eyes, was at the very least a part of The Mother.  
  
She said a silent prayer, wishing she had the time to stop and perform the correct ritual asking The Mother to protect and guide her, and possibly help her by halting the rain shower that was quickly becoming a downpour.  
  
She saw the moths and grasshoppers that fled the heavy footfalls of her boots, lacing and threading their way through the overgrowth, catching the light of the waning sun and appearing as faeries and sprits flying before her, guiding her path.  
  
The lightning shot across the sky in random intervals, giving her flashes to see by as the dark crept its way across the floor of the forest. She was torn between the awe of the sheer power and being frightened at the way the ground rumbled under her feet from the strength and proximity of the thunder that quickly followed.  
  
She was running out of time and this was her warning.  
  
Her side clenched itself as her muscles struggled to draw in oxygen and keep up with the frantic pace she had set.  
  
She doubled over, barely catching herself on a nearby tree before falling to the muddy earth.  
  
She didn’t stop to catch her breath just caught her footing and kept going. Whatever pain she felt wasn’t half as bad as the man’s she was searching for, that much she knew for sure.  
  
As the cold crept into her bones, only to be expelled by the burn of her muscles as she forced them way past her limits she began to fear.  
  
Fear that in the dark, in the power and sheer force of the storm, that she was going to fail her Mother and not find this man she had sent her to locate.  
  
When all seemed to be lost, and the fear clutched at her throat like a hand, just to be replaced by the sense of failure an inadequacy another bolt of lighting shot across the sky.  
  
She watched it strike, watched the flames that quickly consumed the leaves and branches of the tree that was its casualty and deep down she just knew.  
  
Finding a reserve of willpower and strength she didn’t know she possessed she pushed and took off into a run, the cold rain pelting her skin and sending shivers wracking through her body.  
  
She felt the pull in her stomach shift and skidded through a sudden change of direction before seeing his form highlighted against the shadowed form of an old oak as lightning once again shot across the sky.  
  
She fell to her knees, feeling the rocks and roots dig through the denim and into her flesh as she felt for a pulse with a shaky hand.  
  
It was weaker than it should have been, but it was there, and it beat steady as she inhaled a breath she had starved herself.  
  
She gingerly touched the crimson fabric that hid the extent of his injuries and jerked when his eyes fluttered open and met hers.  
  
Their jade depths seemed to swallow all the light in the area and radiate with their own brilliance despite the pain and fear that swam through their mottled irises.  
  
“Dean,” she whispered, not knowing where the name had come from, but it flowing from her mouth as easy as a hushed prayer.  
  
“You,” he said quietly, recognition sparking in his eyes.


End file.
